


Worth My Strife

by billspilledquill



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Live Action TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Friendship/Love, Gen, M/M, don’t be fooled: this is comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:00:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27732676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billspilledquill/pseuds/billspilledquill
Summary: Light surrenders. It’s L’s biggest mystery case yet.[Set in episode 9 where instead of killing L in the abandoned warehouse, Light demands that he killshim.]
Relationships: L/Yagami Light
Comments: 19
Kudos: 94





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> .... this fic is labelled as “cheese” in my folder, I think that tells you about the amount of cheesiness it will have.  
> I have always seen drama Light as a separate entity from manga/anime Light. The latter would definitely not do anything this fic says he’s doing. The same goes to L. I was ready to let this story die in my folder in peace, but my friend (damn you) convinced me into publishing it. Every DN Live Action (2015) fic I write is dedicated to my love for Kobuta Masataka, thanks!

I strove with none, for none was worth my strife:

Nature I loved, and, next to Nature, Art:

I warm’d both hands before the fire of Life;

It sinks; and I am ready to depart.

“Dying Speech of an Old Philosopher” 

L stared at the notebook and then back at Light, wondering when he woke up a minute later, if he would qualify this a good or bad dream.

“This is not how it’s supposed to go,” L said, when he was still there, awake, and Light equally real, standing the way all self-conscious people do, his glance levelling his. “I didn’t bring Light-kun to a warehouse just for him to confess everything and accept that he has lost _this_ easily.”

Light had a soft, quiet laugh. His entire body slumped against the wall. This was not how it was supposed to go. L wasn’t supposed to come out unscathed, his shirt still as pristine as his hands. There was no blood, no screams, no _deaths_.

L glared.

“What is Light-kun planning?”

Light rose his hands, that smile not fading in the slightest. “You caught me,” he said. “Kill me with it. You know how it works. You said the cameras are off.”

L tugged the notebook closer to himself, almost willing to believe that he had got it all wrong, that Kira can kill with just a mind, a thought. Light stood here defenceless, and for the first time L felt it shimmering, that buried rage beneath the skin, an ever-constant swirl during this investigation. Anger. He was angry enough to strike Yagami Light’s name down in the notebook, he was angry enough to snarl, but the notebook was fake, and snarling was pathetic. There was nothing else to do but stare.

“You have access to other notebooks,” L said, but it was futile. Light looked at him.

“Of course I do,” Light said. “Are you-“

“I’m not stupid,” L said. “But what Kira is doing right now is, so I am trying to think stupidly.”

Light uncrossed his arms, then crossed it again. “I have never been too smart,” Light said, “but I’m not stupid. Try and think average, how about that, Ryuga?”

L hated that name. It was even worse when Light said it. Ryuga Hideki existed in the realm of schoolwork and banters. Ryuga Hideki considered Yagami Light the only worthy person he had met in years. “Kira plans to kill me with his proxy,” L said. He was shouting before he realized it. “Another Kira- there’s another Kira here! That’s why—”

Light’s black suit blended with the walls. The smile was a light-tipped, pinched thing. “You’re right,” Light said. “They’re coming. Wear this.”

And Light pulled out a mask from his bag. L stared at it.

“Put it,” Light said. The mask was white, with two slits for eyes and one slim opening of mouth at the bottom. “Put it on.”

It smelt like plastic.

A gasp, heard behind one of the broken columns in the warehouse, made L’s jaw clench. “And now,” L saw Light say through the two widening slits of the mask. “I would like that Kira to go now, and do whatever they want with the notebook. I don’t want any part of it anymore.” He closed his eyes. “I am Kira, Ryuga. The first Kira, anyway. Kill me.”

Sounds of steps faltered in the background. _Chase after him_ , L ordered himself. Yagami Light just surrendered. There was no need for him to stall time here. The other Kira escaped, and L stood a few feet away from Light, unable to move even an inch, just to look at that solemn, defeated face, the tired lines under the eyes, and slit of light opening slowly, only to whisper something useless, something akin to _I lost._

“This is stupid,” L stated. “This is the stupidest conclusion I have ever witnessed in a case.”

“You will do better next time,” Light promised, and he went back to closed eyes, feigning sleep. “Why aren’t you killing me?”

“The notebook is fake,” L said.

“You make things difficult, Ryuga.”

“Light-kun makes things too easy,” L countered. “It’s bothering me.”

Light laughed; this time a terrible, demented thing. His hand went to his wrist, a pristine watch beneath the black sleeve. “Write it,” he said, gesturing the paper he just retrieved from his watch. L walked up to him, fascinated. “It’s a piece of it,” Light explained. “Write it with your blood.”

“I have a pen.”

“Oh,” Light said. He seemed to have remembered why they were here in the first place; the entire plan L had concocted that now made him seem like a fool. “Sure, then. Go ahead.”

L took the paper, mull it over. When their fingers brushed, Light’s were trembling. “Light,” L began, and didn’t know how to finish.

Light lolled his head to the side without a care in the world, staring at the shivering fingers like they weren’t his. “Yes?”

“This,” L said, arriving to an unsafe distance between them, the paper balled into his fist. “This is stupid.”

Light tilted his head up, his lashes fluttering. “You have said that before.”

“No,” L said, listening to the far-off footsteps of the investigation team. “I am referring to what I am about to do next.” He let the paper slip into his pocket. “It will be really stupid. It will be the stupidest thing I will ever do, hopefully.”

Light fluttered his eyes open. “The case is closed. I am the first Kira. I am sure you will find the others just as easily. It’s not a good time to be stupid.”

“Why is Light-kun nervous?”

Light stared at the team behind him. He was probably looking for his father. They were at the far corner of the warehouse, with L hiding Light from view. “I’m not,” Light said, rubbing his fingers against the metallic string of the watch. L caught him by the wrist and unbuckled it. “What are you doing?”

“Evidence,” L said.

“I literally just confessed,” Light deadpanned. He looked very tired. “Please, L.”

“He will not confess in front of his father,” L said, dropping the watch in the same pocket as that damned piece of murder notebook. “He wants to die before confronting his father, or that I spelt it out to him that his son is a mass murderer.”

“Stop referring me in third person.”

“I am right.”

Light’s eyes were shut close again. It was like he couldn’t stay awake for too long, like he was trying to get used of being dead. “You’re always right. You’re justice, now. You won.”

“That’s not how justice works.”

“You _win_ ,” Light insists, and took a step backwards when the team came closer. “You have won.” Light backed away. “I don’t want to see him.”

“Kira has to pay for what he has done.”

“You will,” Light said, frantic now. “You are doing it now, I swear. Just kill me.”

“That’s,” L said, pulling Light’s wrist, letting the handcuffs do the work. Light gasped, pulling against the chain. L held out his chained wrist. “That’s not how justice works.”

There was no smile, now. Light barred his teeth. “You will regret it,” he hissed. Matsuda was screaming something to him when Light slammed his fist into his stomach, and sent them both flying to the floor.

“I don’t see why we have to use a sedative on him, Ryuzaki,” his father said. “Let alone the chains.”

To keep him from talking; to keep him from running away. “Light-kun was shocked by my accusation,” L explained, draping his legs over the white armrest, crossing them as he went on, “he really thought I was going to write down his name in the notebook. Obviously, he had no knowledge of it being fake. His anger is justified.”

“I see,” Soichiro said carefully. “Still, Light is not prone to violence. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“He was under shock,” L insisted. “We have become quite close friends at school. He felt betrayed, that’s all. Light-kun is a very emotional person, I find.”

Soichiro frowned, but his eyes turned soft; accommodating. “Is he alright?”

“He will to be,” L said, grabbing from Watari’s plate an energy drink. “Your son is a brilliant person, Yagami-san, even though he doesn’t see it. I’m sure he will help us catch Kira in no time.”

“When can I see him?”

“When he wakes up, Yagami-san.”

“You have to apologize to him first, Ryuzaki.”

“Yes,” L said. “I shall. Once he wakes up.”

“No,” Light said.

“Yes,” L answered.

“God,” Light said. “Why are you so difficult?”

“I thank him not using the word stupid.”

Light pulled on the chains between them, rattling. “Ryuk can kill me, you know. This chain can’t stop anything.”

“Ah,” L said, pointing at the black mass hovering over them. “So that’s his name.”

Ryuk crackled. “Nah, Light, I like where this is going. You were acting like a Shinigami real good, y’know? It’s kinda funny how you ended up here. _Really_ funny, actually.”

L side-eyed it. “Where is the other Shinigami? Rem?”

The red pupils turned to him, gleaming ever so slightly. “Who knows,” he said. “She wanders up and down, up and down… I haven’t seen her… one of these days she’s going to be caught up dead…”

“She can die?”

Light took him by the shoulder. “Listen,” Light said. “My father won’t agree to this. I should be send to the court, or whatever international court they will hole me in. I will get death penalty. You can’t force me to stay here. Hell, even Matsuda wouldn’t-”

L’s free hand held the crook of his elbow. Light flinched, looking away. “Clever,” L commented, “but I didn’t tell them.”

“What?”

“I didn’t tell them about Kira.”

Light staggered. “You-”

“I am forty percent sure that this is still some part of Light-kun’s plan, making me focus on him rather than another suspect.”

“I said you would find them in no time!”

“Yes,” L said. They stayed close; Light kept looking away. “Without first Kira’s guidance, the other Kiras are at a loss of what to do. They would be easy to track then.”

“So why?”

“Because this world is explained by logic,” L said. “Not by the laws of the universe, not through the denial of the supernatural. The world is explained by humans, and humans act on a pattern.” Light closed his eyes, unmoving. “The pattern is broken,” L wondered. “A crack in the system, and the hard-drive explodes.”

“Ryuga,” Light said, “please.”

L blinked. For a moment he didn’t know what do say. This name had always been heavy, harkening back to some things L couldn’t quite follow. L’s room was spacious, white dotted with golden fires. The fire crackled, and the Shinigami followed.

“Humans,” Shinigami Ryuk answered for him, and Light continued to shut his eyes, as though back to a trembling sleep.

“I’m doing well, dad,” Light said.

“I’m glad.”

“Yes,” Light said, and returned back to his seat, looking for a criminal that he had just confessed to be.

His father seemed to want more, L thought, remembering the tears of a wounded father’s pride, and a son’s dedication to prove himself. There was nothing in Light that kindled the remembrance of that scene, nothing in the dull typing of a college student, the slow blinking of a tired task force member that reminded L of the father and son he saw a few weeks back, and had been quietly in awe by. Nothing remained.

“Light-kun is allowed to rest if he feels tired,” L said.

“I’m tired of you referring me in third person,” Light said tonelessly, his eyes glued to the screen. “Kira is definitely in Japan,” Light continued. “The deaths are too concentrated. The victims are those who already have a documented history, most of them set free through the means of a trial. We should look into those who have access to these information in the legal system, and then we can narrow it down.”

L bit on a jelly bean. Matsuda made a gurgling noise and nodded happily. Soichiro patted his son’s back, and whispered something along the lines of _good job, you did well, I am proud of you_. Light’s typing hadn’t faded; it got louder. 

“Teru Mikami,” L said. “He was the one that break in for the murder notebook. Let’s search him first.”

Light peered at him. “Yes,” Light said, sounding almost happy. “My thoughts exactly, Ryuzaki.”

It was a known fact that L didn’t sleep. The chains were there only when they were alone. L convinced Soichiro that Light wanted to live here for the remainder of the investigation. It’s only convenient, L had said, and Light nodded along, with a line or two about taking care of his sister to his father.

“Light-kun’s sister will not be happy if he dies,” L said. His room was warm, entirely too big for two people. Light hadn’t slept ever since he got here.

“She will move on. She did for mom,” Light said, rubbing his wrist, the chains rattling between them. “She doesn’t look it, but she is a pretty good cook. Dad will lie to her about me having an internship or travel aboard. He wouldn’t want to her to know who I really am. When she will realize that I am dead, she would have had a family. Either way, she will not be alone. She has good friends.”

“Yagami-san will kill himself.”

Light laid aimlessly on the bed. L had always preferred the chair. “Not out of sadness,” Light said. “He has a code of honour. He needs to preserve it.”

L simply stared. “Light-kun is cold-blooded.”

The white shirt was a little tight on Light. Watari will get him clothes of his size tomorrow. His collarbone was entirely exposed. “I am Kira,” Light said, as if that explained everything.

“It doesn’t explain why you confessed.”

The wrist was turning red. “I told you, I was-”

“Bored,” L answered, crossing his legs over the armrest. “That’s a lie.”

“I have not said the truth in a long time,” Light said, shrugging. “When have _you_ actually told the truth?”

“I do not do anything that requires me of lying,” L said. “I am not a suspect. I present evidence, and others make the final judgment.”

Light turned, his body stretching in an odd, beautiful way, and went to sit on the corner of the bed. His wrist was tenderly red, with signs of bleeding. “I took a bullet for you,” Light said. “I took a bullet for you because I needed to. That was a lie. Everything I have done so far; it was a lie. _Everything_. Do you understand?”

L tilted his head. “Is that a lie, too?”

“ _L_ ,” Light said, sounding desperate. “Why can’t you see? Do you refuse to see?”

“I don’t,” L said. “Tell me what he means. Rhetoric doesn’t suit him.”

“I _failed_.” Light mulled his thumb over the scratches, the redness of the skin. “I failed as Kira. I failed as Yagami Light. I failed and I lost. I failed because I couldn’t be human. I failed because I couldn’t be god. All that is left is this—” Light closed his eyes, letting his hands fall to the sides— “This—“

Light breathed, his heel of his hand pressing against his eyes. “Why don’t kill me, Ryuga?”

L stood from his chair only to sit next to Light. If L ignored everything- maybe L would be exalted by the fact that there was a person in his room, that there was someone he considered a friend, if he ignored that the friend was sitting on his bed, asking him why he was not killing him. “What made you fail? What is the reason?”

Light paled. “I never said there was a one.”

“Light-kun believes in sacrifices,” L said. “A defence mechanism, a typical psychological rationalization. He has killed a person to save his father, and so he is guilty, but guilt is unacceptable. Those guilty of murder are unable to lead a normal life, and that’s what he wanted. If he can’t have that, then he killed for a higher purpose. He had to believe in a higher purpose. This world needs sacrifice.”

Light bit his lips. “I don’t believe I’m wrong, Ryuzaki.”

L knew that. “There was one sacrifice that he couldn’t make,” L said, “and that is the reason why Kira failed. One grace makes all other sacrifices done in vain. If he fails, then they were for nothing. The murders were for nothing. In the end, Kira has killed for nothing, and the guilt makes full circle. That’s why Kira wants to die.”

Light leant his head back, his eyes on the small window on the corner of the wall. Watari had made it bulletproof, the glass so thick that no sound came through. Yellow flashed, and when the rain started to splattered against the windward branches, a seizing breath caught his throat. The worst was seeing the thunder and hearing nothing but the roaring in his chest. When L had regained his composure, Light looked directly at him, a small smile on his face.

“The great L is afraid of storms,” Light said, not unkindly. He went to the window, the bed frame creaking as he stood. The moon hung high over the sky, just on top of Light’s head as he pulled the curtains shut. “My sister used to come to my room every time there was a storm. She doesn’t know that she can just shut the curtain close. I think she just wanted an excuse to spend time together. Children are too much like adults, sometimes. They are stubborn.”

“Light-kun has failed,” L breathed out, disconcerted that he was the one looking away, now. The thunders shying from his mind, replaced by the glaring white of Light’s shirt, the silver of skin and collarbone. “He won’t tell me why.”

Light’s smile turned to a confused twist of lips. “You have won. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I want a case solved.”

“You are the one that stopped it from its conclusion,” Light retorted mildly, sounding tired; slightly bored. “You are the one that _keeps_ it from its natural conclusion.”

He meant it; he meant death. Death was what L intended from the first. It was in his videos that he had made in the advent of his own death, the death of Kira; justice prevails, he had thought. “I dislike letting a mystery rot,” L said, and there went the spark in Light’s eyes that made him alive. Light went to L’s chair, sitting very properly, very still.

“If I tell you,” Light said slowly, an odd, horrible laugh slipping past him. A Shinigami, L’s mind supplied, but repressed it just as quickly. “If I just tell you, you will be satisfied? You won’t stall anymore?”

“Light-kun is my friend, I believe I have said that before.” L crossed his legs, letting his back fall against the white duvet. “I don’t wish for his death.”

“Liar.”

L could only hear Light’s voice, his face a far away thing; L’s eyes were on the white celling. “I could kill him any second. It’s useless to lie, I have to admit Light-kun’s death would be a waste.”

“It’s not my fault a notebook just happens to have supernatural powers. I’m hardly interesting on my own.”

“He could have me killed at the warehouse,” L said. “In fact, considering the presence of a second Kira, that was the plan all along.”

A Shinigami’s laugh. When L was little, he had wanted to befriend the monsters under his bed. He couldn’t sleep. “I don’t want his death,” L repeated. Light smiled; he had very odd teeth, those that sink into skin that come up bloody. “I don’t know what he wants.”

“Sleep,” Light said.

L gestured the bed. Light shook his head.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Light said. “You never sleep, do you?”

Light slept the same way one didn’t. Turning, gasping, Light kept his screams as low as a whimper, half-awake, half-asleep; a state of impermanent dreams.

L swirled in his chair to look at the body twisting. Sometimes, Light said his father’s name. Sometimes, he said his. Always Light would wake up in a start, his breath evening, then break into a laugh that didn’t seem to come from that trembling, slight body. Always Light would look at him, and bid a good morning.

“It’s not morning yet,” L would say.

Light’s voice will rasp out, “Then it will be.” And he stretched, a sliver of skin showing from underneath the black shirt Watari had gotten him, the day broke anew, and L was left another day to wonder what exactly transpired between them that made L not dead yet, or worse, that Light hadn’t.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am, after four months, with a part 2 that probably will disappoint you, but hey! I’m unable to write anything with a plot, so please bear with me here. Again, the characterization is taken from their drama counterpart, not the manga/anime. 
> 
> On the other hand I’m rewatching the drama DN and it still makes me want to throw a bottle of wine at it so that’s cool, too.

  
“Mikami Teru has confessed to being the owner of the notebook,” Light said with a mundane finality. The task force was blessedly solemn for a great, beautiful minute until Matsuda burst into tears.

“Yes!” Matsuda cried; his tears seemed snort-mixed. L made a mental note for Watari to disinfect everything Matsuda had touched afterwards. “The case is closed! Light-kun and Misa-san are safe. I am so happy, chief—”

“Hush,” Soichiro said, shifting his weight. There was a smile quite unfitting of his character on his face, in the way he picked up the pace, rushed over to Light, and put a hand on his shoulder. A joy had taken hold of him. For his son, L mused. 

“Light,” his father said. “It’s over. Sayu is waiting for you. I don’t suppose Ryuzaki has any reason for Light to stay here, now.”

“Oh but I do,” L said, swirling in his chair. Light didn’t even bother to speak up. “I have not expressed this before, but I suppose that it would be a good time to announce that I have every intention to have Light-kun work with me.”

“Light?” Soichiro said. He turned to L; from the corner of his eye, Light had sunk into his chair, slightly, L supposed, in relief. “He’s too young. He has his future planned for himself. Have you asked for his consent on the matter?”

“I intended to. What do you think, Light-kun?”

Light held his gaze, steadily. The muscle on his left cheek twitches. He was trying not to smile.

“I think we will work well together, Ryuga,” Light said. “We did such a good job at the warehouse, didn’t we?”

“Yes. I would be honoured to work with him. He is very sharp.”

And Light did smile, then, his teeth sharper than what L remembered. His father was looking. Light seemed aware of it. His smile softened, morphed into something that was almost shy, sheepish. He extended a hand; L took it.

“Think about it, Light. You got your entire life ahead of you,” Soichiro said.

“I will,” Light said. He was not letting L go, his fingers rough against his. L thought of microbes, of blood beneath the skin, the vein jumping on his wrist. “Of course I will. A life is long, after all.”

“Yes,” L answered, but he knew Light wasn’t talking to him. His eyes gleamed as he released L’s hand. Light dipped his head, his eyes upfront, like he knew something that they didn’t.

Light ate his food rudely. The hold of the fork was shallow, his plate a mess of bread and half-scraped butter. L sat across the table and saw Light’s mouth trail after an oddly cut egg, and listened to the hard sound of a fork against metal.

“I usually eat with chopsticks,” Light said to the air. He had noticed him staring. “I usually eat alone.”

“Not with his sister?”

“She always oversleeps. I pack her something for the road.”

“Light-kun is kind.”

Light smiled at his food. “You like to make statements like these. Like it’s simple. Like it’s true.”

“I am not wrong.”

Light’s eyes narrowed as he looked up at him. “Am I hurting your ego?”

“That’s not what I am saying.”

A pause. “Right,” Light said. “Thank you, I suppose.”

“Does he still want to die?”

“What a question,” Light said, still half-way through his egg. L stared at the lips, avoided the eyes. “Why did you hire me, then?”

“Well.” L moved to pick up a piece of bread, break it in half. “To hire him.”

“Really.”

“Yes,” L said. “What did he think?”

Light settled the fork down. L wondered if he should tell him to wipe the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know what you think, Ryuga. I didn’t think much of it.”

“Then why did he accept?”

“Why not?”

“He wants to die.”

“I have killed people, Ryuga.”

“He did. He also doesn’t regret it.”

Light’s entire body went lax. He settled back in his chair, its legs scraping the floor as he adjusted his position with a laugh. He shrugged, passively, then went back to sip a gulp of juice on his right.

Light said, “Am I allowed to have a tour?”

“Ah,” L said. He seemed to have missed something. An action performed in his head, as flimsy as a dream. “Yes. Watari will take you.”

“Do you need help with the dishes?”

L picked the knife by the pinch of his fingers. He cut his bread in quarters. “Watari will also take care of it.”

“Is he your guardian or your babysitter?”

“Light-kun is mean.”

Light had that smile again. “Statements. So I am kind and mean?”

“That’s what being human is.”

Light had wanted to say something, just like L wanted to do something earlier. There were many options, ones that L can think about: _I am not,_ and _so are you,_ and _you know when my father said I had my life ahead of me? I wanted to laugh. I wanted to kill. I wanted to die_. But Light didn’t say anything, and L didn’t do anything. What was left unsaid went unsaid, undone went undone, and L was left there looking, staring.

It is after staring at Light’s empty chair that L realized that he had wanted to kiss him.

“You’re joking,” Light said, after. He turned away. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“That’s not how I would think Light-kun would react to a kiss,” L said, watching Light wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. “Light-kun is very unpredictable.”

“I don’t care what you think.”

“He is shaking all over.”

Light faced him as though to prove him wrong, but it only furthered the correctness of his observation. Then he smiled. A small laugh escaped him, like a broken balloon, wheezing. “Do you want me, Ryuga?” He spread his arms, lowered them when they spasmed, as though in pain. “Do you?”

L remembered a girl in Light’s school saying the same thing. L pointed it out; Light didn’t seem as surprised as L expected him to.

“You could have anyone in that college if you would just bat your eyes,” Light said, and for the first time, stuttered. _E-eyes_. L almost touched his eyes, just to verify that they were still there.

“He is joking,” L said, now.

“Everyone liked you, Ryuga. It’s not hard to see. You look—” Light gestured him, as though that explained it. He opened his mouth, seemingly to speak. He laughed instead, dropped his hand. “So, what? You want me?”

L thought about it. “Depends on how Light-kun defines wanting.”

Light looked at him. “Do you want us to have sex, Ryuga.”

“Not particularly.”

Light kept his smile. He seemed neither disappointed nor elated, a state of permanent stillness. “Then go to sleep,” he said.

L didn’t want to; he didn’t remember a time where he had wanted to sleep. “What does he want?”

The muscle beneath Light’s left cheek jumped. He was clenching his teeth. He was smiling. “I want you to go to sleep, Ryuga. I want you to do whatever you want to do.”

“What,” L said, “if I want us to have intercourse?”

The word made Light’s eyes curl, probably found it ridiculous. It was beautiful, in a way. “Then we will.”

“Kneel, then,” L said.

“Kneel?”

“Yes.”

Light lowered his eyes. He did kneel, he knelt slowly. L didn’t like it. L had never hated anything in his life as much as seeing Yagami Light lowering himself on the ground. L had captured serial killers before, saw their works as they are: the severing of hands, the plucking of eyes. Clinical reports, photos from the crime scene, videos; L had stared. Light was on the ground, looking up.

L looked away.

“Get up,” L said, revulsion at the back of his throat. “I would like Light-kun to get up, please.”

A pause. Light shrugged, pushed himself up. “I didn’t mean to disgust you,” Light said, as close to an apology either of them was willing to impose on the other. “You did ask me to do it.”

“Ah,” L said. There was something stuck at the back of his throat; he wasn’t quite sure how to get it out.

“Did you see the people I killed when you stared down at me?” Light asked lightly. “Or did you just saw me?” Light took his black jacket off. L can see the sleeve, not the eyes. “Which one is worse, I wonder,” was what he heard Light murmur, and then louder, “I’m going for a shower, L.” To the soft padding of naked feet against the floor, Light walked away.

L sat on the bed, the jacket at his left. He tapped his fingers against the black fabric, and, listening to the slow simmering sound of water on the other side, tapped and tapped and tapped to the rhythm of something in his chest, until he was calm once again, until the heart didn’t hurt.

And Light continued. He would talk to his father amiably when the calls come, change his tone when his sister is on the line, then address L with a completely new set of words and ideas. There was no life in any of those voices, not like the one he had heard at his school, not like the hostility at the tennis match to boot. When L inquired him about those voices, Light simply asked, “What do you want me to do? Which voice?” He had sounded so sincere that L refrained from inquiring again.

It sounded like, _which part of myself do you prefer?_ It sounded like, _I will cut that part out, I will let you have it._ It sounded too much like defeat, and L had never felt so exhausted to be on the winning side. 

Near wasn’t happy about this situation, or Mello wasn’t. _You just want to keep him as a pet_ , Mello argued. _Or worse, you want him as a friend. Don’t be fuckin’ stupid, L,_ along with Near’s quiet shushing in the background, their hands on their stomach, grimacing.

To a certain extent, none involved in the Kira case was happy with how it turned out, with the sole exception of Matsuda. But since Matsuda was an idiot and the world was still surging up for the release of the other Kira as protests spread worldwide, it was not surprising that no one was happy with the current situation at hand.

Light explained, “Kira is not a hero, he catalogues. He helps people know who is evil.” And L would argue, placidly, that crime was hardly ever caused by some kind of ideological evil, Light simply said, “The world needs evil. People want to know who is the _them_ they need to eliminate from the world. We talked about it in economy class, Ryuga. Feelings drive even numbers, let alone people.”

“That wasn’t his intentions,” L countered, but mildly. He wasn’t interested in justice. He was interested in games; Near was frowning in his head somewhere, and Mello snickering. “It’s easy to rationalize his intentions after the fact. But that wasn’t Light-kun’s reasons in the first place.”

Light closed his eyes. The Countermeasures Office felt empty when they were alone. L always found it easier to find Light in a crowd of people.

“I wanted to jump,” Light said. “I almost jumped. After I first killed.”

“Jump,” L repeated, and only belatedly that his hands were prickled with sweat. He picked a napkin, then promptly forgot it was there. “After having saved his father from dying?”

“Ryuk was going to give it someone else,” Light said. “Anyone else. If I jumped.”

“He couldn’t let that happen.”

“I guess,” Light said. He blinked. “I guess I didn’t want anyone else to kill. They were going to kill the wrong person. They were going to use it. For evil, I thought.”

“He thought,” L said. They hadn’t seen Ryuk around lately.

“It’s not about the notebook,” Light said. He said it like a revelation. “It never was.”

“Light-kun—"

He was expecting Light to interrupt him. To look at him as L looked away, to speak as L spoke to stop. To stop something, to do something. But Light waited. He looked and waited and L clasped his mouth shut.

Light said, after the silence, “He’s going to have to kill me one day. Ryuk had said it.”

L was reminded that Light was a normal teenager, before. “Is he afraid?”

“I am tired.”

“Mikami’s execution is scheduled for next Monday.”

“I know.”

“Misa-san has no memory of her crimes.”

“Leave her alone.”

“Why?”

“She doesn’t remember a thing.”

“You remembered.”

“I had to finish what I started.”

“He didn’t.”

“I didn’t.”

“Why?”

Light looked at him. He looked at him for a long time; silence answered him again. Light passed a hand over his hair, then again, and again, and again. L felt an apology at the tip of his lips.

“You don’t need to,” Light said, saving him the embarrassment. “You know, don’t you? Everything I thought. It has crossed your mind. “

It was true that the idea wasn’t new. The idea that Light was Kira, the idea that Light would die anytime soon, the idea that Light might just be in love with him didn’t escape him. A plant, its stem, something quietly suffocating in its wake. But Light wasn’t a plant. He was real. He was the truest person L had the misfortune of encountering. 

“Don’t you think it’s cruel to ask questions you always know the answer of,” Light said, with no intonation in his voice, like he couldn’t care less what L thought, not really. “Sometimes I feel like I’m already dead. Like I’m dead with you.”

“The only world where Light-kun and I both die is that he killed me at that warehouse, and he dies in the hand of the police as Kira.”

Light hummed. “Where is the one where we die together?”

L was intrigued. “At the same time?”

“Together.”

“Together,” L said, dumbly. “There’s a zero percent possibility for a double suicide. Light-kun is unable to kill himself while I have a minimal understanding of self-preservation to survive.”

“It is just as likely that we live together, then,” Light quipped, his mouth wide as he grinned. “What are the odds of that happening?”

“Light-kun asks a lot of questions.”

“You do, too. I thought you know everything about me already.”

The tone took a teasing turn. Light’s friends at the college must have had heard him speak like that. Light laughing, teasing, socializing while taking on a mission to create a new world. Light’s head down, his hair framing his face. There was the almost shyness, the almost normal. There was the urge, of course, to kiss him, like one naturally did when anyone went too close to something beautiful. Light’s moles were littered across his neck and nose, and his smile a terrifying thing. 

“People will celebrate Kira,” L said. “Not all, but some will. They will praise him as the saviour and lament the loss that his execution will bring. That’s what I know about Kira. Light Yagami is a student that wants a normal life. That’s what I know about him.”

Light said, “And then?”

“There’s more,” L said.

Light’s teeth stayed sharp. He stayed alive, and the permanence of past moment was replaced by this one. Maybe L should point out to Light that he knew L, too.


End file.
